


Shouldering the Burden

by Evenstar656



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Post-Star Trek Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenstar656/pseuds/Evenstar656
Summary: McCoy pulled Jim back to him and tucked the blonde head under his chin.  They had been inseparable for years, and the admission from Jim wishing he’d gone down with the ship detonated the realization that he couldn’t comprehend a life without him in it anymore.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 24
Kudos: 162





	Shouldering the Burden

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Star Trek Beyond
> 
> Disclaimer: The Star Trek franchise and its characters are property of Paramount. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: Just a bit of shameless h/c. As always, although I am a doctor I’m not that kind so I happily practice with my fictional degree. 
> 
> Warnings: Injury, language, and slight McKirk.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes, this was un-beta’d

###

“Doctor McCoy?”

“Yeah?” McCoy leaned heavily on the counter finishing his notes on the surgical repair of Spock’s abdominal injury. The internal clean up had gone well with minimal blood loss, and the Vulcan was expected to wake from the anesthesia at any moment so he could finish his healing in a traditional meditative trance.

“I got a comm from the ER. Something about someone from your ship collapsing. They should be arriving any minute now.”

“Did they say who it was?”

“No, sir.”

McCoy stifled a groan, he was utterly exhausted and the last thing he wanted to do was to have to stay any longer, “Thanks, Nurse…”

“Chell, sir.”

McCoy looked up to see an Andorian behind the nurse’s desk. Chapel and the other nurses that were rescued had already been relieved and sent to quarters throughout the station. By sheer luck M’Benga had been on leave and hadn’t been on the ship with them when they departed for Altamid.

“Thank you, Chell. Tell them I’m on my way down,” he finished and saved his notes before handing the chart to the nurse.

He had to follow the signs in this hospital’s unknown labyrinth to get back to the ER. His stomach turned to ice when he turned a corner and caught sight of a familiar tuft of dark blonde hair on the gurney being rushed down the corridor. 

_Did I see Jim after we landed? Everyone was supposed to report to the ER and get checked out._

He racked his brain trying to remember if Jim had been behind him when he arrived at the ER with the First Officer. 

_I coulda swore he had been right there behind us._

He’d been so preoccupied with stabilizing the complicated physiology of a human-Vulcan hybrid at the time he couldn’t confirm if Jim had been there or not. He wished he had paid more attention to Jim. The doctor jogged to the bay the team had entered to see the receiving team in the process of cutting Jim’s heavy survival suit off of him.

“What the hell happened?” he scowled at the wailing vitals display. 

The man was suddenly grateful he was still in the scrubs he’d been given for Spock’s surgery.

“Who are you?” presumably the ER physician was irritated that some blustering man was in her bay.

McCoy felt a sharp sense of protectiveness over Jim, who lay unconscious and bare with the hands of a half dozen strangers working on him. It was all he could do not to yell at them to leave Jim alone and let him take care of the kid himself. His gut churned more when the ER doctor peeled open the bruised eyelid and flashed her penlight over the crystal blue eye. He stretched to look, but couldn’t see the pupil’s response from his spot at the foot of the biobed.

“Leonard McCoy, I am... _was_ ...the CMO of the _Enterprise_.”

The doctor’s scowl softened, “No idea. He just came in by medivac shocky. All they said was he collapsed in the Commodore’s office. Open that line all the way up, his BP is abysmal. There’s some bruising on his throat and his O2 isn’t great either. Let’s get 5 liters by mask going.”

McCoy’s eyes darted around the team of nurses carrying out the other physician’s orders. Jim was quickly covered with several warm blankets and a field on the biobed was engaged to push the blood from his extremities to his vital organs.

“Everyone stand back,” someone called and the team suddenly stopped what they were doing.

A green light emanated from the ceiling that scanned Jim from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. The light disappeared and the frenzy resumed. McCoy pushed his way to the head of the bed, barely glancing at Jim’s ashen face, to see the results on the large screen.

“Someone get a full blood panel. What’s his urine output?” the ER doctor called out as she tabbed through the scans on the display.

McCoy could easily see over the short woman, “That shoulder is a damn mess.”

“Was he in a fight? He looks like he took a beating. Look, there’s a hairline orbital fracture here,” she pointed to the screen. “Easy enough to fix but not much I can do about the black eye by now. Same with the cracked ribs, and I don’t see anything serious in the abdomen. Someone comm Ortho and get that left shoulder immobilized. I thought people from your ship were told to come in?”

McCoy wanted to beat himself for letting Jim get away in such sorry shape, “I thought he was right behind me.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor McCoy. I’m sure that saying things were hectic is an understatement.”

“Labs are done,” a nurse called out and they tabbed the screen to the new results.

“Well I can see why the damn idiot collapsed,” McCoy scowled at the horrendous blood sugar and electrolyte panel values.

The fool clearly hadn’t taken care of himself after they landed. McCoy knew he should’ve paid more attention, the infant needed constant supervision and had no regard for his own wellbeing. The ER doctor rattled off a set of orders and turned back to face her patient. McCoy turned just in time to see two eyelids trying to flutter open. He didn’t need the alarm on the biomonitor to tell him Jim’s body was waking up to the pain it had suffered. 

“Captain Kirk?” the physician all but yelled in Jim’s face.

The man on the bed shifted but that wasn’t enough for the doctor and she brought him the rest of the way up with a hard rub to his sternum.

“Captain Kirk, can you hear me?”

“B’nes,” he lethargically huffed.

“Here, kid,” McCoy all but shoved a nurse out of the way to get in Jim’s line of sight.

“Happened?” Jim brought up a hand to pull at the mask but it was intercepted by McCoy who set it back down by his side and didn’t let go.

“They said you collapsed in Commodore Paris’s office.”

Jim was more alert, “Wasn’t done briefing.”

“I think you are for now. You clearly went into shock.”

“Feel better now,” Jim’s eyes darted around the room at the team working on him.

“I bet you do.”

“Captain Kirk, I’m Doctor Speca. Can you tell me where you are?”

“Yorktown. Fucking sickbay.”

“I’ll give you that one. We actually have a Starfleet hospital here. You’re in the ER.”

“Let me up,” Jim tried to push himself off the biobed but was halted by an arm held securely to his chest and several pairs of quick hands.

“Easy, kid,” McCoy kept him pinned down with a hand to his good shoulder.

“Captain, your blood pressure is still very low. You need to stay lying down for now. Does anything hurt?” Speca eyed the monitor.

“My shoulder and face.”

“We’ll get you something for that. Someone’s coming down to look at your shoulder; it’s injured pretty badly. There’s a broken occipital bone under all those bruises and lacerations.”

“Spock broke my shoulder?”

“Uh, looks that way, Jim.”

“How is he?”

“He’s fine, I finished his surgery right before I came down here to find you,” McCoy gave him a pointed look.

“To save me time looking through his records, he can have Toraphine?” Speca interrupted.

“Yeah, that one’s okay.”

Jim tried to watch a nurse fiddle with the IV in his hand but McCoy shifted to block his view.

“Jim, why didn’t you go get checked out? It’s been hours...”

“They pulled me away,” the pain meds were finally reaching his brain and his focus was sharper.

McCoy tensed but forced himself to relax and not have an aneurism in front of the crowd. The Commodore should’ve let him get looked over first before dragging him to be debriefed for several hours.

“Ortho’s here.”

“Family can wait outside,” the surgeon ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The senior officer’s brewing temper finally short circuited, “Don’t order me around like some first year med student. I am Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the _Enterprise_.”

The people in the room froze in their places and the junior officer immediately snapped to attention. Jim struggled to keep his amusement from his face, he wasn’t the only well known senior officer from Starfleet’s flagship. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“As you were,” McCoy scoffed at the annoyingly young surgeon.

“Yes, sir.”

“Before you scare him away, Doctor Meir is actually a superb surgeon,” Speca patted the relieved surgeon on the back before leaving him in the bay with the now angry CMO.

McCoy would give the guy credit later after he let him stew for a while, but he did seem shockingly competent during the exam of the joint and proposed a solid surgical plan given Jim’s level of activity.

“Surgery?” of course Jim picked up on that word while the surgeons manipulated the scans on the display screen.

“Yeah, kid. The dislocation was pretty violent and there’s a lot of damage in there. Surgery will cut the recovery time in half over just the reduction and regenerative therapy.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope,” McCoy answered quickly before the other surgeon could change the plan.

Jim grumbled but ultimately accepted his fate. Things moved quickly after the plan was solidified and he was pushed out of the ER in a matter of minutes.

“Where are you going?” Jim tore the mask from his face as McCoy started to pull away from his gurney that had been parked outside the OR.

“To sleep, darlin’.”

“You’re not helping?” Jim heaved himself upright on his good arm.

Something in McCoy’s chest clinched his heart at the sight of Jim’s disappointment, “Jim, I’m beyond exhausted. I’m in no condition to operate.”

It hurt McCoy to admit it but the weight of running on nothing but fear and adrenaline over the last few days drug his bones to the floor. Even if it was Jim, he just didn’t have the energy. He’d just lost his ship and two thirds of the crew he had cared for over the past few years. It was selfish, but he needed a moment to rest.

“Please, Bones,” Jim pleaded softly; McCoy had never not taken care of him. 

A nurse came to grab the gurney but McCoy waved her off, “Jim, I could fall asleep standing right here. You really don’t want me rooting around in your shoulder.”

“You’ll be here when it’s done?”

McCoy sighed, he could do that at the very least, “Sure, darlin’. Be here when you wake up.”

Jim looked heartbroken as the nurse insisted it was time and pushed him into the OR. The poor kid had to have been scared and on top of whatever storm was brewing in that brain of his after everything else. McCoy felt so ashamed that he couldn’t do this for Jim he plodded to the waiting room and plopped wearily into a vacant seat. Sitting down felt heavenly and there was nothing he could do to stop his tired body from melting into the cushions. It wasn’t long before he was powerless to stop his leaden eyelids from closing.

###

“Doctor McCoy?”

He wanted whoever was trying to bother him to go away.

“Doctor McCoy?”

“What?” he huffed.

“I’m done with Captain Kirk’s shoulder repair.”

That got his system awake and he nearly slapped himself in the face with the hand his cheek had been propped against. He opened his eyes to see that annoying ortho surgeon from earlier seated on the coffee table in front of him.

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I could’ve gotten you a call room.”

McCoy brushed the man off and scrubbed the sleep from his face, “How did it go?”

“The labrum was completely torn in the dislocation and most of the ligaments were stretched out if not outright torn.”

“Shit. The occipital fracture and ribs?” 

“Already fused; we ran a round of osteo while working on the shoulder. Sealed the face lacs too. We can go to the PACU if you’d like?”

McCoy was already on his feet, “Are you keeping him sedated for the night?”

“I hadn’t planned on it. Why?”

“If there’s any way you can...he just lost his ship and most of his crew.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” they made their way through the hospital’s maze to the recovery ward. 

McCoy made a beeline for Jim’s gurney as soon as it was in sight. The man looked considerably better despite laying nearly upright; his left shoulder was swathed in bandages and the arm was strapped to his bare chest. He was still receiving supplemental oxygen via a cannula looped around his ears and under his nose, but that seemed perfunctory based on his vitals shown on the biomonitor next to him. McCoy couldn’t help himself and peaked under a bandage to the small line of dermal regenerators clicking away over the incision.

“We got his sugar and hydration levels back to somewhat more acceptable levels while in there too.”

McCoy nodded and glanced at the bag of yellow liquid tucked under the gurney. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes.”

“Thanks, and uh, sorry about earlier.”

“No need, but I do have some questions for you about a few of your articles when you have time.”

The surgeon flitted away before McCoy could reply. Jim was already stirring as his body rid itself of the last of the anesthesia. His black eye was still there but it looked a hundred times better than it did in the ER.

McCoy grabbed Jim’s hand that moved restlessly at his side, “I’m here darlin’.”

“‘nes,” slivers of electric blue made their way from under long lashes.

“You’re in recovery. That hotshot fixed your shoulder.”

“Hurts,” Jim rolled his head towards McCoy’s voice.

“I know, kid. Shoulder surgery always sucks.”

He grimaced at the thought of his own surgery to repair a rotator cuff injury from a polo match as a teen. It had been just plain awful. McCoy looked at the IV pump to see if there was anything he could do about the pain.

“Hey, Captain.” 

McCoy was caught red handed with his fingers at the control screen, “Habit.”

“Hurts a b’tch,” Jim whined.

“Okay, Captain. Your surgery went well, everything was repaired.”

“Good.”

“Feeling nauseous?”

“Mmm’hmm.”

“And the pain, on a scale of one to ten?”

“Eight.”

McCoy was shocked Jim actually gave an honest answer; the poor kid had to be really hurting, “We’ll take care of that, Jim.”

The doctors shared a knowing look and Jim was sent into oblivion after a few taps at the screen controlling the IV pump.

“Thank you,” McCoy relaxed after Jim’s breathing evened out.

“I’ll keep him down until the morning or so and look at discharging him early in the afternoon if things look well.”

The battle weary CMO nodded and was gone without a look back.

###

The feeling of someone watching him pricked the hairs on the back of his neck. His brain snapped to high alert.

“It’s just me,” the communications officer heard the change in his breathing.

“How did you get in here?” McCoy peeked an eye open to see Uhura dressed in civvies and sitting in a chair in his bedroom.

“The door.”

“Really?” he eyed the woman.

She scoffed, “Pavel got me your door code from your apartment assignment.”

“So you just helped yourself?”

“And how is that different to what you do to Kirk?”

McCoy reddened, he really was bad about abusing his override code to enter Jim’s quarters

“How did you know I wasn’t sleeping naked as the day I was born?”

“I didn’t,” she smirked.

McCoy shuddered.

“Get dressed. I brought breakfast,” she tossed a few bags of new clothing onto the bed.

“You went shopping?”

“I have Kirk’s too so you can take him clothes to leave the hospital; I’m sure they cut his to shreds.”

“Is Spock out of his trance?” McCoy swung the bed covers to the side.

He’d looked at the chronometer to see that he had managed about six hours. It was barely enough to make a dent over the ordeal of the last few days.

“Yeah, he commed me way too early this morning asking me to come get him. I told him to wait to a more acceptable hour.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

Uhura’s shoulders fell, “A little. They gave us sedatives in the ER to use later but I didn’t…”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

Uhura stood up and headed for the doorway, “Get dressed so we can go rescue the boys.”

“Aye aye,” McCoy groaned at the ache his bones felt when he pushed to his feet.

McCoy rifled through the bags of clothing as soon as Uhura left. He selected a few items and carried them to the bathroom.

“We can eat this on the walk over,” Uhura stood in the kitchen with a tray of coffees and breakfast when he stepped out freshly showered and dressed.

“Thanks,” McCoy took the lid of the coffee and downed half of it in one pull. 

“Jim’s bag?” 

“Right,” McCoy jogged back to the bedroom and picked up the bag he’d packed for Jim.

The walk to the hospital was a little longer than he had really wanted to endure in the snowglobe, he had hired a taxi the previous night, but the woman seemed to relish the exercise so he kept the complaining to a minimum. They got the room information from the receptionist and headed up the turbolift. Since both men were recovering from surgery they were on the same floor, although on opposite ends as it turned out when they saw the signs as they exited the lift. McCoy nodded and headed in Jim’s direction while she smiled and headed for Spock.

A nurse was exiting just as McCoy arrived and he slipped into the door before it closed. The room was dim from shades that had been drawn to keep out the artificial sunlight. Jim was upright and half covered with a gown that had only been pulled up on his good side. His arm was still strapped to his chest, but the supplemental O2 was gone. The doctor scanned the glowing biomonitors and was satisfied that Jim seemed to be in fairly decent shape. He grabbed the data pad in the slot at the end of the biobed and pulled the lone chair to Jim’s side.

“Lookin’ good, kid,” he tabbed through the chart and convinced himself the captain had a fairly uneventful night with a few more treatments to hasten his recovery.

There was a hitch in breathing and the hand in the immobilizer flexed, “Bones?”

“Right here, Jim,” McCoy tossed the chart aside and grabbed Jim’s free hand as his eyes fluttered open.

“The crew?”Jim barely cracked his eyes open.

“Everyone’s been taken care of. Only a half dozen had to stay overnight.”

“What time is it?” Jim tried to blink away the sleep.

“About oh-nine-hundred,” McCoy glanced at the display screen. 

Jim groaned, “You kept me asleep?”

“Sorry, darlin’. It wasn’t me this time,” what Jim didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Did you get any sleep?” Jim remembered how exhausted the doctor had been.

“Not nearly enough.”

The pain was making its presence known and Jim shifted restlessly. The lights came up in the room having sensed its patient was awake.

“Hurting?”

“Hurts like a bitch. Are you sure the guy wasn’t a Klingon?”

McCoy chuckled, “Yeah, kid. Despite your surgeon still being in diapers, he was mildly competent.”

Jim cracked a shallow grin, “I guess that is a huge compliment coming from you?”

An ominous hiss came from the IV pump and the tension melted from Jim’s face.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Jim licked his painfully dry lips and scanned the area for water. 

McCoy watched the electric blue eyes land on a carafe of water on a rolling table that had been pushed into a corner. He immediately sprang from his chair and poured a glass of water.

“Here,” McCoy plopped a straw in the cup before passing it to Jim’s IV encumbered hand.

“How long is this arm gonna be useless?” Jim nearly drained the glass.

“Hopefully just a week,” the child-surgeon appeared in the doorway.

Even Jim was shocked how young the man appeared, but then again his own crew kept appearing younger and younger to him lately.

“Morning, Captain. I’m Joseph Meir. I repaired your shoulder last night.”

Jim couldn’t deny it felt weird that someone other than McCoy had been poking around inside him. 

“I’m gonna take a quick look and then we can see about getting you out of here.”

Suddenly Jim didn’t care about his age anymore now that a discharge was on the table. The surgeon made quick work of checking the joint and healed incisions before declaring Jim could be discharged after he ate breakfast and it stayed down. Meir left with orders for PT later and a reminder to the CMO that he still had questions about his research.

“Did you bring me clothes?” Jim pointed to the bag he assumed was for him.

“Of course, I wasn’t gonna let you walk through this damn snow globe with your ass flappin’ out of a gown,” McCoy tossed shorts and a pair of loose pants in Jim’s lap. “Need help?”

Jim huffed with frustration when he realized all of his usual tasks were going to be a pain in the ass for the foreseeable future.

“Let me go find a nurse to pull your catheter.”

The man reddened, “Just do it now and fast.”

“Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor...” 

“And how is it any different than on the ship? Please just take it out. My arm’s busted and that has nothing to do with taking a leak.”

“Fine you brat,” McCoy huffed and left to go find supplies.

A nurse carrying a tray of breakfast gave the two men a suspicious look when she walked in to see the dark haired man grumbling at her patient as he tightened the drawstring on a pair of loose pants.

“Captain, your foley…”

“Yeah I took it out for him,” McCoy shoved Jim to sit on the side of the bed and shook out a t-shirt from the bag.

The poor nurse looked horrified and unamused all at once.

McCoy reddened and Jim laughed when they finally caught on to what the nurse must’ve thought, “It’s okay, he’s a doctor.”

Not quite relieved, she set the tray down and rolled the table to her patient, “If breakfast stays down we’ll get you switched to pills and remove the IV.”

McCoy pulled the lid and Jim wrinkled his nose at the selection of unappetizing liquids.

“Booones,” Jim whined.

McCoy rolled his eyes, “Just eat it so you can leave. We’ll do better for dinner if your stomach’s okay.”

Once Jim finished his breakfast he was more than eager to leave. He wanted nothing more than to go somewhere alone to process everything and grieve for his crew. He’d managed to weasel McCoy a replacement medkit and an earlier discharge time with the promise of behaving for the senior doctor. Said senior doctor knew better but stayed unusually silent as Jim pleaded. 

“Jesus, kid. I thought you only whined at me,” McCoy called the turbolift.

“Hold the lift!” Uhura shouted as they boarded the car.

McCoy elbowed the hold on the control screen.

“Jim,” Spock walked with more determination than they had ever seen.

“Don’t like hospitals either?” Jim moved to make room.

“I am most eager to take leave of this place.”

Uhura rolled her eyes and crammed in with the guys and everyone’s bags, “I think the staff got tired of being corrected.”

“Now they know how I feel,” McCoy grumbled as the lift descended.

“I was not aware that you were injured,” Spock eyed the immobilizer over Jim’s shirt.

“Uh yeah…” Jim shifted his stance.

“Did I cause your injury?” the Vulcan flushed green.

“Yeah you did, but the worst part is he collapsed at HQ,” McCoy added.

“I’m not angry. It was better than being sucked into space,” Jim added quickly.

“I am sorry, Jim.”

“Spock, I promise it’s okay,” Jim tried to plead.

“No one’s going to bring up the fact that he passed out in Commodore Paris’s office?

Spock was still stuck on the fact that he wrenched his captain’s shoulder but Uhura dutifully questioned the ruffled doctor. The doors to the lift opened and the tension inside the cab dissipated. 

“The damn idiot didn’t go get checked out afterwards.”

Jim rolled his eyes and hurried to catch Spock at the cab stand.

“How are you, Spock?” Jim asked with the others out of range.

“Physically I am mended.”

“Emotionally?”

“I do not know.”

“I know, me too.”

The four of them clambered into a large cab and rode to their assigned apartment building in silence. They shared another turbo lift and Uhura exited with Spock at his floor while McCoy pulled Jim off at his floor.

“Sorry, kid, but part of your parole agreement was that you had to stay with me for a few days until they let you use your arm.” 

Jim knew but hadn’t been worth the fight in order to get his early release. He followed McCoy into the apartment and immediately went to the window that overlooked a bustling city square. The plaza below was teeming with life as if they hadn’t come within a hair of being wiped out of the galaxy yesterday. Seeing the vitality of the people below made his heart ache for the crew he called his family and the ship he had called home.

“Jim?” McCoy called softly.

The captain didn’t answer. McCoy wasn’t sure whether to leave the grieving captain alone or provide a shoulder to cry on. He saw the reflection of a tear trailing down Jim’s cheek in the window.

“Need some space?” 

“I don’t know,” his breath hitched.

“C’mere kid,” McCoy decided for him and pulled Jim into an embrace.

It was a tense few moments until the dam broke. The only thing McCoy could do was hold on tight as gut wrenching sobs wracked the body in his arms.

“Bones…” Jim hiccuped.

“I know,” McCoy had to squeeze his eyes to hold back his own tears.

Both men had cared for the people they lost in their own ways. 

“I never should’ve accepted the mission. I knew it felt wrong…”

McCoy slid them down to the floor and leaned against the cool window.

“Jim, you couldn’t have known. Command didn’t even know.

“Bones, our home. Our _family_.”

Their loss was incalculable.

“I know, darlin’.”

Jim let out a burst of sobs and McCoy squeezed his arms around the man even harder. It broke his own heart to see one of the strongest men he knew in such a state. He wanted nothing more than to take the pain away. Seeing Jim anguish was the one of the few things in the universe he just couldn’t handle. 

“I should’ve gone down with the ship. A good captain always goes down with their ship.”

Something inside McCoy snapped. He pulled away sharply and shook Jim until their eyes locked, “Don’t ever say that. Do you hear me?”

“Bones…”

“I brought you back from death once before and you can be damn sure I will do it however many times it takes.”

Jim was shocked by the ferocity in those hazel eyes boring into his soul.

“Do you hear me, Jim?” McCoy grabbed the sides of Jim’s face.

The grieving captain reluctantly nodded.

“I want you to say it.”

Jim hesitated but saw a fire in the hazel of McCoy’s eyes, “Yes, Bones. I understand.”

McCoy pulled Jim back to him and tucked the blonde head under his chin. They had been inseparable for years, and the admission from Jim wishing he’d gone down with the ship detonated the realization that he couldn’t comprehend a life without him in it anymore. He had suspected for some time that he saw Jim as more than a best friend or a brother. The nagging voice in the back of his mind had begun to murmer milliseconds before he had decided to break his oath and bring Jim back to life. He always knew some part of himself fractured when Jim came back to the ship injured or barely clinging to life, but he always put him back together. His greatest fear was that the next time would be the time he failed. It had developed so gradually he hadn’t noticed until the dots connected themselves. A sickening sense of pain followed knowing that these thoughts were one sided and he’d never act on them and potentially put Jim’s command at risk.

They remained entertwined on the floor until Jim’s sobs slowed down until it was just hiccups McCoy could feel puff against his collarbone through the thin shirt he wore.

“We should get you off the floor and get you something to eat. I’m sure it’s time for a pain pill.” 

McCoy felt a faint nod against his chest. He groaned and grumbled about being an old man as he pulled the two of them to their feet. Jim was deposited on a counter stool within easy view of the cooking appliances in the small kitchen. There wasn’t much in the cabinets but between the basic sundries and replicator he managed to produce two plates of pancakes and eggs.

“We’ll go stock up later today,” McCoy made sure Jim swallowed a pain pill and could manage eating with one arm before digging into his own lunch.

Jim’s comm chirped and he set down his fork to read the message, “I have to go finish the debriefing.”

“Absolutely not, you just got discharged. You had surgery for cryin’ out loud.”

“Bones, I don’t have a choice.”

“You should’ve been given a medical flag.”

“Bones, they need to know while it’s...fresh.”

McCoy swallowed the mouthful of pancakes he had over chewed. They finished the rest of the meal in silence until McCoy’s comm chirped with his own summons for a debriefing. He grumbled and picked up their empty plates.

“They’re nothing if not efficient here,” McCoy held up two garment bags of station uniforms a courier had just delivered.

Jim followed the man into the bedroom where McCoy unzipped the two bags and laid the contents out on the bed. 

“It’s a damn jumpsuit,” McCoy scowled thinking of how he was going to get Jim dressed.

It certainly wasn’t easy and Jim was grateful for the pain meds with all of the manipulation it took to get into the one piece garment. Luckily for him the magnets of the immobilizer worked through the clothing so he could wear it under his suit and it only looked like he was holding his arm close by.

“We’ll tackle a shower after you’re done,” McCoy shoved his arms into his own uniform and pulled the sleeves over his shoulders.

The able armed surgeon had to stop pulling his zipper and help Jim finish closing the convoluted snap closure at the suit’s neck.

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim patted McCoy on the shoulder as he stood in the mirror to do his own closure.

They walked to the kitchen and McCoy handed him the bottle of pain pills, “I want you to take these if it runs long.”

“Bones…” Jim didn’t want to be seen popping pills in front of base leadership.

“Go to the bathroom or whatever, but please take care of yourself,” McCoy pleaded.

Jim relented and swiped the bottle after he saw the man’s pleading eyes, “Fine.”

“Thank you. Now there’s no use dawdling so let’s get the show on the road.”

###

“How did it go?” McCoy looked up from his data pad he hadn’t been paying attention to as Jim came through the door.

He glanced at the chronometer, Jim’s second debrief ran much later than his own and it was well into the simulated night time on the base.

Jim only grunted in reply. Apparently the second round had gone as well as the first. His own questioning stirred up painful thoughts and he could only guess what was stirred up in Jim’s mind.

“Did they feed you? Did you take your pain meds?”

“Yeah, they gave me dinner.”

“Did you actually eat?”

Jim nodded and plopped onto the sofa, hissing when the movement jarred his shoulder.

“Did you take your pain meds?” 

“Bones,” Jim warned sharply that he wasn’t in the mood.

McCoy was silent for a moment, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Jim stared at the bland carpet.

“Okay, kid. Let’s get you showered and to bed.”

Jim didn’t even make his usual quip or an innuendo as he was hauled to the bathroom by his good arm. The process of extricating himself from the jumpsuit was equally miserable and the option of cutting him out of it came up more than once. McCoy tossed the offending garment out of the bathroom when they finally managed to get Jim out of it.

“I want real water,” Jim stood outside the stall in his shorts as the sonics started up.

“Can you actually manage washing yourself?” McCoy was skeptical.

“Jesus, I’ll be thirty-three tomorrow. I can wash myself.”

Jim relaxed when the sonics switched over to water.

“Yell when it’s time to dress,” McCoy put a towel and toiletry kit within easy reach of Jim’s working arm.

McCoy watched Jim nod and shuffle out of his shorts before stepping into the stall. He picked up the discarded uniform on his way out and hung it up properly before he retreated back to the sofa. 

It was hard to focus on whatever he left open on his data pad. After his own debriefing he had come back and changed, sent comms to Joanna and his mom, and then sat on the sofa and struggled to process everything the questions had churned up. It had been the first time while he’d been awake and alone with his own thoughts.

As a CMO, he had cared for the crew more intimately than a captain ever could. He was always the one that put them back together so they could follow Jim on their next adventure. And the ship, he hated that tin can but there was no denying that he had made a home on her. Now everything had changed in the blink of an eye. He tried not to think about how many times he had cheated death during the ordeal. There had been so many opportunities it made his heart flutter. The biggest ones he replayed in his mind was when he was stuck inside a turbolift that was ejected into the vacuum of space, when he tried to land an alien ship in a ravine, that time he was surrounded by more of those aliens, the firefight to rescue what little crew remained, and chasing after Krall himself. 

Those moments were just the ones _he_ knew about. They didn’t even include Jim’s multitude of likely near death opportunities. He didn’t know the specifics but he was sure Jim had faced many of his own narrow escapes. There was just too much to process between his realization that he couldn’t live without Jim and that they both nearly died on each other half a dozen times in the past few days. Damn he needed a drink, and a strong one at that.

“Bones?” Jim’s soft call reverberated around the impersonal apartment.

“Coming,” he tossed the useless data pad to the coffee table.

McCoy found that Jim had managed to dry off and get into his pajama bottoms by himself. 

“This sucks,” Jim hissed as McCoy threaded Jim’s injured arm through the t-shirt sleeve and up and over his head.

“Well, Uhura didn’t know about your shoulder when she got you clothes. We can go tomorrow and find something better.”

Jim nodded as McCoy wrapped the base of the immobilizer under Jim’s rib cage and attached the arm guard around his wrist. As soon as the two pieces were close the magnets engaged and brought the arm to attach to the base.

“Feels okay?” McCoy checked the position of the arm.

“Yeah.”

McCoy arranged the pillows on the bed so that Jim could recline upright, “A lot of people find sleeping this way better with shoulder injuries.”

Jim nodded and climbed under the covers McCoy held open. 

“Bones?” Jim settled into the mound of pillows.

“Yeah, Jim?” McCoy pulled the blankets up.

“I don’t want to dream tonight.”

“I can fix that,” McCoy looked at the anguished blue eyes and left to grab his med kit.

Jim let out a quiet ‘thanks’ when McCoy returned with a hypo in his hand.

“Ready, kid?” the doctor sat on the edge of the bed.

“Some birthday, huh?” Jim ran a hand through his damp hair. “And I still have to deal with my mother tomorrow…”

“Let's just finish out today before worrying about tomorrow, kid,” McCoy cradled the side of Jim’s neck and pressed the hypospray gently to the other side. 

He muttered a soft apology when Jim flinched as the medicine was administered. The sedative worked its way to Jim’s brain quickly and his blue eyes closed. McCoy waited a few moments and listened to Jim’s breathing even out. He put two fingers under Jim’s jaw and felt the strong steady thump of his pulse below. A pulse he was grateful to be able to feel after what they had been through. He was too old for this shit.

The weary man sent a quick note to the senior crew to meet for Jim’s birthday before dialing up a milder dosage of the same sedative for himself. He also wanted to silence his own brain. There would be time to really process everything later, but tonight he just wanted to sleep. McCoy climbed into the bed next to Jim and called down the lights before he pressed the hypo to his own neck.

  
  



End file.
